


Aurora

by wowbright



Series: Klaine One-Shots [18]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Teabagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:12:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt rims Blaine for the first time. (With special bonuses of fingering, cock-sucking, and sorta-teabagging!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aurora

**Author's Note:**

> I need to delete a rimming scene from this fic I’m working on, because it contributes absolutely nothing to the plot. So here: Have 1,100 words of PWP! (It’s so WP that you can even decide for yourself whether it’s past, present or future, and the location of the bed where they’re doing their lovemaking. How’s that for reader participation?)
> 
> Originally on [tumblr.](http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/39431177016/fic-aurora-nc-17)

When they get into bed, their goodnight kiss is a chaste kiss, a  _hello I’m home_  kiss – warm and comfortable and calming. Kurt puts his hand on Blaine’s chest, feels the  _thump, thump_  of Blaine’s heart reciprocating his own. It pulls him out of his drowsiness, and without thought or goal, Kurt pushes the hem of Blaine’s shirt upward so he can kiss that spot on Blaine’s chest where the heart beats loudest.

“Let me show you,” Kurt says, without knowing what the words mean until Blaine asks him.

“Show me what?”

“How perfect you are.”

Blaine gasps, although Kurt is barely doing anything, just breathing quietly against Blaine’s chest, making the hairs there quiver.

Kurt peels off Blaine’s shirt and pants, feeling Blaine’s muscles tremble with want, and pulls back the blanket so he can see all of him. He has seen him so many times now, but the sheer beauty of it always comes as a shock, like a rare aurora borealis in Ohio’s winter sky.

Kurt stands up and strips off his clothes, eyes locked on Blaine’s.

“You’re so – ” he starts, but the words don’t come, so instead he crawls back onto the bed, hovering over Blaine, and begins to cover his throat with small, slow kisses.

Kurt may not quite understand religion, but he understands the impulse to worship. Blaine fills him with it, the primal yearning to lose oneself in contemplating incomprehensible beauty.

He focuses on Blaine, the movements of his body, the tremors and arcs, the moans and gasps, the fluctuations in his breath and the heavy pounding of his heart. It’s as if Kurt’s own body, his own desires, disappear. He becomes a vehicle for Blaine’s delight. All he feels is what Blaine feels.

Kurt’s body works on instinct, responding to Blaine’s responses. Blaine’s body quakes when Kurt runs the flat of his tongue along the crease of his hip, so he does it again, and again, lapping at him unhurriedly as Blaine’s gasps crescendo into moans.

“Oh, Kurt – ”

Kurt rubs his cheek against Blaine’s cock, luxuriating in its warmth and smoothness, tracing its veins and ridges with his fingers. He drags his nose and lips in the hair around the base, the sultry interior of Blaine thighs – down, down, down toward his beautiful, tawny pink rose.

Kurt’s wanted to do this for a long time, to taste this last spot of Blaine that has gone untasted, to thank it for the things it does to both of them. He spreads the cleft of Blaine’s ass open and stares – he finds himself staring at Blaine’s asshole a lot, it’s just so – There really aren’t words. So he doesn’t try to find them.

He uses his tongue for purposes other than speaking.

Blaine slowly opens under Kurt’s tongue, petals unfurling, the eager bloom of spring and desire. He opens his mouth, too, gasping out scraps of words but incapable of completing any of them, finally giving up and settling into moans and barks of pleasure.

Kurt could do this for hours, for days, forever, bathing in Blaine’s light.

Kurt sucks on one finger and then slides it into Blaine, quivers himself at the fierceness with which Blaine grasps him, is pretty sure he’ll never get over how amazing that feeling of it tight around him – any part of him – is.

Kurt takes Blaine’s cock into his mouth, sucks slow and lazy. He loves the way Blaine’s cock throbs and grows, a living thing, a living part of Blaine, filling and satisfying him.

Blaine’s hands grasps in Kurt’s hair. “Oh, Kurt, I – Oh, you – Kurt, you make me, Kurt, you make me, Kurt – ”

Kurt runs his free hand up to Blaine’s face, reading the twists of ecstasy on his lips and neck and around his eyes until Blaine grabs Kurt’s fingers with his mouth, pulling him in with near-frantic need.

Kurt is feeling his own franticness now, wishing his mouth could be everywhere, and god does he try. He licks down Blaine’s cock back and to his balls, pulling them one at a time into his mouth with a gentle swirl of his tongue, sucks gently on Blaine’s balls, slides down to Blaine’s hole because he wants to feel it grabbing around his tongue.

Blaine lets out a whimper of protest when Kurt pulls his finger out, but when he replaces it with his tongue, the sound that Blaine makes is anything but protest. Blaine sucks on Kurt’s hand more fiercely, so hard that Kurt would worry about his fingers being bruised if he weren’t so lost in the sensation of Blaine’s muscles grasping at his tongue. Blaine is rocking against Kurt’s mouth and it’s perfect, perfect – Kurt can see and smell and hear and taste nothing but Blaine. Kurt’s nose rocks against the soft skin beneath Blaine’s balls, rich with the smell of soap and sweat and the faint scent of musk, and when Kurt’s eyes open all he sees are Blaine’s skin and balls, the bounce of his heavy cock against his stomach. Kurt grabs it, soothes it, strokes it fast and slow and in between as Blaine rides his tongue, and  _fuck,_  why did Kurt wait so long to do this? If only his tongue were strong enough, if only he had enough sense to keep himself from fucking into the mattress, he could do this forever. 

Blaine is quaking, gasping, his back arching, his moans so shaky they sound close to sobs, and that’s the final straw for Kurt, the thing that makes him thrust deeper than he thought possible into Blaine’s ass, the thing that makes him thrust against the mattress and come so hard he can no longer see Blaine’s skin, just a pure shock of white against his eyelids.

Kurt doesn’t know if it’s how deep his tongue has gotten or the way he moans into Blaine’s ass or the way he involuntarily squeezes Blaine’s cock when he comes, but pretty soon Blaine follows with something akin to a shout, muffled only by Kurt’s fingers in his mouth. His orgasm ripples around Kurt’s tongue, spills out over Kurt’s hand, and Kurt uses the wetness to stroke Blaine through it. It’s everywhere, soon, on Blaine’s balls and the tip of Kurt’s nose and dripping onto his top lip.

Kurt carefully pulls his tongue out and licks soothingly at Blaine’s wet crack, trembles with the aftershocks that run through Blaine’s body.

“C'mere, c'mere,” Blaine finally mumbles, pulling a reluctant Kurt up from his ass and toward his mouth. “Is it too dirty that I want to kiss you?”

Kurt smiles. “Nothing’s dirty with you.”

Blaine licks into Kurt’s mouth, like he’s trying to taste and swallow every bit of pleasure either of them experienced this evening. Kurt feels cared for and content.

It’s a long caesura of floating before they collapse into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from an early draft of Fidelity, which appears elsewhere in my archive (see "Fidelity" or "Fidelity Series.")


End file.
